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“Don’t worry about it,” she said, yanking me out of the car and starting toward the front entrance. “She owes my family a favor. Your mom won’t even know about it. And besides, if anyone asks why we’re here, we got you covered, don’t we, Piper?”
Piper grinned. “Anytime.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around them and pulling them close. A small giggle escaped my lips, and I threw them a wink. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to tell you girls shit about what happened today in World History, then again in the stairwell.”
“Oh, bitch,” Maddie said, grinning. “You bet it does.”
ChapterThirteen
BLAISE
Ispent three hours trying to find Vera’s address. She hadn’t given it to me, and I was getting pissed the fuck off. After World History, I couldn’t get her out of my fucking mind.
But after pulling some strings and bribing the right people with money, I had her address in the Google Maps app and her number in my phone and was about to head over to her house now. It wasn’t that I was fucking obsessed with her, because I wasn’t.
But she was mine.
Not fucking João’s.
That fucker didn’t know what was coming to him, if he kept that shitty fucking attitude up.
As I closed the front door, Skylar pulled up my driveway and cut her lights. I rolled my eyes and sighed under my breath, heading directly for my car and hoping to avoid her at all costs. I hadn’t even invited her over tonight.
She hopped out of her car and hurried toward me, looping her arm around mine. “Where are you going, Blaise? We always have plans on Tuesday night.”
“Not tonight,” I said, ripping my arm out of hers and opening my car door. “Move your car, so I can get out. You parked right fucking behind me. There is a whole fucking driveway where you could’ve parked your shitty-ass car.”
Skylar stood by my car and crossed her arms as I slammed the door. “I’m not moving my car anywhere,” she shouted, her voice muffled. “We need to talk. You’ve been so fucking off lately, and you won’t even tell me why. Did I do something wrong?”
Deciding to ignore the bitch—because I didn’t really care for her anyway—I started the car and let the heat warm my face. The time on my phone read five thirty p.m., and I didn’t want to waste another fucking second here.
“So, you’re going to ignore me?!” Skylar said. “First, you ignore me. Then flirt with me in front of anyone during school. It doesn’t make sense, Blaise. What the hell do you want from me?”
“Nothing,” I said, staring emptily at her through the window.
“Is it because of that bitch from History? What were you even doing to her today?”
I wrapped my hand tightly around the steering wheel. “That’s none of your fucking business, Skylar. Now, move your fucking car before I back into it.”
“You wouldn’t do that,” she said, giving me those bratty eyes that I’d once thought were the sexiest damn things in the world. “You care about your pretty ass car too—”
Sliding the gear into reverse, I started backing up.
Skylar’s eyes widened, and she hurried over to her car. “Fucking fine! You win.”
After she backed out of my driveway, I waited for her to leave the neighborhood. I didn’t want her following me to find out that I was actually going to Vera’s home to pick her up, that I planned to bring her back to my place tonight. Skylar would use that against her.
Don’t get me wrong; I didn’t care about Vera. I just wanted to be the one to blackmail her. It was a fun pastime in this shitty place. And it wasn’t like I was about to head to the skatepark in the pouring rain tonight, so this would have to do.
When I was sure that Skylar was gone, I started the directions to Vera’s house and took off. Fifteen minutes later, I pulled into the Redwood slums. Run-down houses and broken-down cars. Bars on some windows and ugly chain-link fences that did nothing to keep dogs from chewing through them and wreaking havoc on unsuspecting people. Garbage littered across yards and sidewalk-less streets. This place was filthy.
After glancing once more at Google Maps to make sure I had actually typed in the right address, I pulled up to the side of the road in front of a small one-story house that barely had a front yard and had blinds that were ripped.
I pulled up my hood, stepped out of the car, and walked up to the front door, and then I knocked twice. Moments later, the door creaked open, and a kid with chubby cheeks and brown hair appeared behind it with an Xbox controller in one hand and a box of off-brand Cheez-Its in the other.
“Is, uh, Vera here?” I asked.
“No,” he said, looking behind me at my car. “Who are you? Her boyfriend?”
